Bei Xiwen's scream shattered the silence of her private study, a cavernous room tucked deep within the Bei family's sprawling Shanghai estate. A priceless jade vase hit the floor, exploding into emerald shards as her manicured nails dug into the edge of her ebony desk. The gala—her gala, meticulously planned to cement her as Shanghai's untouchable queen—had been ruined. And not by market crashes or rival CEOs. By Huo Jingran, that worthless cannon fodder who refused to stay buried.
"Insolent rat!" Xiwen hissed, her voice echoing off walls lined with ancient scrolls and glowing talismans. Her white gown from the gala, still stained with Jingran's prosecco, lay crumpled in a corner like a discarded script. "She dares defy me? After everything I've done to crush her?"
A low chuckle answered from the shadows. "Temper, Xiwen. You're scaring the spirits."
She spun, eyes blazing amber, fox-like, as a figure stepped into the candlelight—Lu Mingxu, the reclusive hacker heir of the Lu clan. His lanky frame slouched against a bookshelf, his glasses glinting under messy black hair. He looked like a tech nerd who'd wandered into a horror flick, but Xiwen knew better. Mingxu's mind was sharper than any blade, and his loyalty to her spell was absolute—or so she believed.
"Don't mock me, Mingxu," Xiwen snapped, pacing before a jade altar at the room's center. It pulsed with faint runes, mirroring the ones Jingran's pendant had thrown at her constructs. "That Huo pest destroyed my statue at Teng's office. She's using the Jade Whisper. How? She's a nobody!"
Mingxu pushed off the shelf, hands in his hoodie pockets. "Nobody or not, she's got guts. Crashing your gala? Throwing wine? I almost respect her."
Xiwen's glare could've melted steel. "Respect? She's a glitch in my story—a bug I'll squash."
He shrugged, unfazed, and tapped a tablet on the desk. A live feed flickered: Jingran's trashed apartment, claw marks gouged into the walls. "You sent her a warning. Bold move, but she's not running scared. She's with Teng Haoran now. That's a problem."
Xiwen's lips curled, venomous. "Teng Haoran. Always meddling. He thinks he's untouchable, but he's just another pawn."
She crossed to the altar, trailing a finger over its runes. The air shimmered, and a spectral fox materialized—sleek, amber-eyed, its tails flickering like flames. It bowed to her, a servant of her clan's ancient sorcery, passed down through centuries of Bei dominance. The gala had been her stage to charm Shanghai's elite, binding their minds to her will. Jingran's stunt—calling her out, dodging arrest—had cracked that spell, loosening her grip.
"She humiliated me," Xiwen said, her voice low, dangerous. "Publicly. The tabloids are questioning me now, not her. I'll burn her life to ash."
Mingxu tilted his head, curious. "Why not kill her? Quick, clean. Done."
Xiwen laughed, sharp and cold. "Death's too kind. I want her broken—begging, friendless, her name dirt. Then I take her pendant. It's the key to our ritual, Mingxu. Without it, the Jade Protocol stays locked, and our control over Shanghai's tech falters."
He nodded, but his eyes flickered—something Xiwen missed, too consumed by rage. "Fair. So, what's the play?"
She knelt at the altar, chanting softly. The fox spirit's eyes glowed brighter, and a vision formed in the air: Jingran, bloodied but defiant, clutching her pendant in Teng's car. Xiwen's nails dug deeper into the desk. "She's heading to a safehouse. Weak, exposed. I'll send more constructs—stronger ones. If Haoran interferes, he'll bleed too."
Mingxu's brow arched. "Risky. Teng's not just muscle—he's got resources. And Jingran's pendant's waking up. You saw what it did to your statue."
Xiwen's smile was pure malice. "Let it wake. She's no sorceress. She'll break it trying to fight me."
She waved a hand, dismissing the vision. The fox spirit vanished, leaving a chill. "Hack Teng's systems," she ordered. "Find that safehouse. I want eyes on her—every move, every word."
Mingxu saluted lazily, already typing on his tablet. "On it, boss. But if she pulls another gala stunt, I'm grabbing popcorn."
Xiwen ignored him, staring at the altar. Jingran's defiance wasn't just a nuisance—it was a threat. The Bei clan's spell, woven into Shanghai's tech boom, relied on absolute control. One loose thread, one glitching pendant, could unravel it all. "You're mine, Huo," she whispered. "And I always win."
***************
On Shanghai's outskirts, where Teng Haoran's car hummed through the night. Huo Jingran slumped in the backseat, her arm stinging under Lanyi's makeshift bandage. The USB of HuoTech logs sat heavy in her clutch, proof of Xiwen's sabotage—but after those fox constructs, she knew it was more than corporate dirty tricks. Xiwen was playing with magic, and Jingran was stuck in the tutorial level of a game she didn't understand.
"Safehouse, huh?" Jingran said, eyeing Haoran's profile in the driver's seat. "Sounds cozy. Got Wi-Fi, or is it full medieval chic?"
Haoran's smirk flickered in the rearview. "You'll survive without streaming, Miss Huo."
"Bold assumption," she shot back, grinning despite the adrenaline crash. "My soul runs on cat videos."
Shao Lanyi, beside her, snorted, scrolling on her phone. "Focus, boss. Xiwen's trending—'Saintly Heiress Slandered?'—but your gala clapback's got traction. You're at… ten thousand retweets."
Jingran whistled. "Look at me, going viral for not sucking. Progress."
The pendant pulsed, its voice cutting in: Jade Whisper alert: Task reminder—Infiltrate Bei estate. New data—Safehouse compromised. Defensive measures advised.
Jingran's grin faded. "Compromised? Already? This system's got the bedside manner of a DDoS attack."
Lanyi glanced up. "You muttering at your bling again?"
"It's a… stress tic," Jingran said, waving it off. She leaned forward, tapping Haoran's seat. "Yo, Batman, any chance your safehouse's got anti-fox-ghost wards?"
His eyes met hers, sharp. "Fox ghosts?"
"You know," she said, flailing for a bluff, "metaphorically. Like, paparazzi. Or Xiwen's creepy fan club."
He didn't buy it, but the car slowed, pulling into a gated compound—less safehouse, more minimalist fortress. Concrete walls, tinted windows, and a drone buzzing overhead screamed paranoid billionaire. Jingran's pendant hummed, uneasy.
"Home sweet hideout," she muttered, stepping out. Rain plastered her gala dress, and she shivered, Jingran's memories flashing: nights alone, shunned by her adoptive family, mocked by Xiwen's allies. "Screw it," she whispered. "I'm rewriting this script."
Inside, the safehouse was all sleek tech—smart screens, biometric locks, and a coffee machine Jingran eyed like a lost lover. Haoran led them to a living room with low couches and a view of storm clouds over Shanghai's distant skyline.
"Sit," he said, tossing her a towel. "Explain the pendant. No lies this time."
Jingran dried her hair, stalling. The system urged: Selective truth. Haoran's resources critical.
She sighed. "It's old Huo family tech—experimental. Xiwen wants it to bury her role in HuoTech's crash. That's all I've got."
Lanyi raised a brow, skeptical but silent. Haoran leaned closer, his cologne—sandalwood, always sandalwood—messing with her focus. "Tech doesn't glow, Miss Huo. Try again."
Before she could dodge, the safehouse's lights flickered. A low growl echoed, like the server room's hum but angrier. Jingran's pendant blazed, projecting runes. The system blared: Intrusion—Greater spirit construct. Source: Bei Xiwen.
"Oh, come on!" Jingran yelled, grabbing a decorative vase. "Xiwen's got a ghost subscription service now?"
Lanyi dove for her laptop, pulling up security feeds. "Cameras caught something—outside, moving fast."
Haoran's face hardened, already at a control panel, typing. "Stay here."
"Like hell," Jingran said, following him to a window. Outside, rain blurred a shape—bigger than the office foxes, its tails whipping like lightning. Its eyes locked on her, Xiwen's voice snarling through it: "No safehouse, Huo. Nowhere to run."
Jingran gripped the vase, heart pounding. "Lanyi, got a flamethrower in that bag?"
"Working on it!" Lanyi called, hacking the safehouse's defenses—drones powering up outside.
Jingran focused on the pendant, runes swirling. The system coached: Offensive rune viable. Success chance: 58%.
"Better than my last blind date," she muttered, flinging a blade-like rune at the window. It hit the construct, which roared, staggering but not down. Pain spiked in her head—mana drain, again.
Haoran grabbed her arm, pulling her back as glass shattered. "Move!"
They ran for a panic room, Lanyi slamming the door shut. Drones buzzed outside, engaging the construct—explosions lighting the feeds. Jingran panted, the system whispering: Construct weakened. Task progress: 70%. Bei estate now priority.
Her phone buzzed—a text: Safehouse was cute, Huo. My estate's next. Come play. A photo showed Xiwen's altar, runes glowing, with Jingran's pendant mirrored in its light.
Jingran's blood ran cold. "She's baiting me."
Haoran glanced at her phone, his voice low. "Then we go. My terms."
The system pinged: New task: Prepare for Bei estate. Ally detected—Lu Mingxu's signal nearby.
Jingran's gut twisted—Mingxu, in Xiwen's vision, glowing-eyed. Friend or foe? As drones screamed outside, a new sound cut through—a motorbike's roar, stopping at the gate. The feed showed a figure in a hoodie, glasses glinting.
"Lu Mingxu," Lanyi breathed, recognizing him.